In this cottage, I can barely breathe. You’re my best worst mistake. End of story.

—–

Happy birthday…

Still I wonder how you are
And what became of all of this
Did you cry when winter’s hands
Stole you from that fertile grave?
Did your mother hold you dear
To ease the burden of your pain?
Swallowed out into the light
Happy birthday

Still I wonder how you are
And how you ever came to be
I was nothing but a hole
You nestled in and fell asleep
Are you sad when you’re awake
Torn away from fertile dreams?
Didn’t want to wake you up
I’m still sorry
Happy birthday

Do you wonder how I am
What ever became of me?
Do you envision my thin face
Where the beaten go to dream?
I didn’t want to cut the cord
You suck the life right out of me
Do you regret choices you’ve made?
I guess I was a mistake
I guess I was a mistake
I guess I was a mistake
I guess I’m your big mistake
Well, happy birthday anyway
Happy birthday

I’m sad for those who don’t know what it’s like to love a city more than they love themselves… but I guess we’re all fated to pretend.

I’m feeling rough, I’m feeling raw, I’m in the prime of my life.
Let’s make some music, make some money, find some models for wives.
I’ll move to Paris, shoot some heroin, and fuck with the stars.
You man the island and the cocaine and the elegant cars.

I caught you caroling and giving grief
Thought you were cannonballing after me
I let your actions speak for themselves
And wished you wellBut you’re a mirror I cannot void
Strung out and jittery and paranoid
A leaky battery that cant keep charged
Get in the car and say what you mean
Explain yourself to me and Ill try not to judge you more than you would

Let me help, I promise not to tell
Like anyone’s asking or anyone shouldFirst time I met you I was full of fear
Knew that eventually you’d disappear
Just when I needed you you’d burn to smoke
And off you goJust come back and peel away the mess
Lay here beside me and open your eyes
Take it back your dignity your tact
Turn back to the person you tried to let die

I caught you nesting with your analog
Glassy eyes from kissing poison frogs
Becoming infinite against his couch

Open your mouth and say the words
You used to wish you heard
Back when you focused enough to be good

And if you’re gone
An endless false alarm
Just remember I loved you
As long as I could

Back when Liz Phair hadn’t sold out to commercialism, her albums were great.

I know that I don’t always realize
How sleazy it is messing with these guys
But something about just being with you
Slapped me right in the face, nearly broke me in two
It’s a mark I’ve taken heart
And I know I will carry it with me for a long, long time

I don’t know if I could drive a car
Fast enough to get to where you are
Or wild enough not to miss the boat completely
Honey, I’m thinking maybe
You know, just maybe

I don’t know if I could fly a plane
Well enough to tail spin out your name
Or high enough to lose control completely
Honey, I’m thinking maybe
You know, just maybe
Maybe

And it’s true: “I don’t know if I could fly a plane well enough to tail spin out your name.”

No one has ever known me at my ultimate best and yet at my ultimate worst like the only “Two Headed Boy,” I once knew.

This photograph is of me belting out the following lyrics… one of my most favorite songs of all time:

Daddy please, hear this song that I sing.
In your heart there’s a spark that just screams,
For a lover to bring a child to your chest,
That could lay as you sleep and love all you have left,
Like your boy used to be, long ago,
Wrapped in sheets warm and wet.

Blister please, with those wings in your spine.
Love to be with a brother of mine.
How he’d love to find your tongue in his teeth,
In a struggle to find secret songs that you keep,
Wrapped in boxes so tight, sounding only at night as you sleep.

And in my dreams you’re alive and you’re crying,
As your mouth moves in mine, soft and sweet.
Rings of flowers round your eyes and I love you,
For the rest of your life (when you’re ready).

Brother see, we are one in the same.
And you left with your head filled with flames,
And you watched as your brains fell out through your teeth.
Push the pieces in place.
Make your smile sweet to see.
Don’t you take this away.
I’m still wanting my face on your cheek.

And when we break we’ll wait for our miracle.
God is a place where some holy spectacle lies.
And when we break we’ll wait for our miracle.
God is a place you will wait for the rest of your life.

Two-headed boy, she is all you could need.
She will feed you tomatoes and radio wires,
And retire to sheets safe and clean,
But don’t hate her when she gets up to leave.

I saw Mount Eerie last night. No matter if he calls himself The Microphones or Mount Eerie, Phil Elverum is a near-perfect musician.

The last time I saw him play live I was in college. I was Events Coordinator at our college radio station and it was my goal to bring him (he went by The Microphones then) to our campus. It wasn’t a huge turn out, but the intimacy of the show outweighed the fact that we went way over budget to get him there. That was about 10 years ago.

Last night, Elverum was just as great live as I remembered him. Still shy and a wee bit awkward, but now he was pudgier than he was in his earlier 20’s and the sides of his hair were grey. But still, he played a heavenly show… his voice still painfully haunting and sounding just as sweet as it did when he was 22.